


nighttime sharpens

by markwatnae



Series: now and always [2]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markwatnae/pseuds/markwatnae
Summary: Christine cannot sleep, and her thoughts dwell on the rough start to her beautiful life with Raoul and Erik.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Christine Daaé/Raoul de Chagny/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny/Christine Daaé, Raoul de Chagny/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Series: now and always [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195793
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	nighttime sharpens

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel of sorts to [let me be your shelter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815965). If you think I'm being vague about some things, I am. I had a difficult time coming up with some reasonings but I got it to a point where I'm happy with it.

The room is dark, only the moonlight spilling out from under the curtains, but Christine is awake. She’s tucked between her lovers in their custom-made bed big enough to fit all three of them comfortably yet she cannot sleep. Erik is curled up on his side, facing away from her. She worries after him.

When they brought him to Raoul’s estate, Raoul had their family doctor check him over, giving the story that he was Christine’s cousin who was injured in the military. Erik never removed his mask.

“My wounds are healed. They need no further care,” he said.

He was malnourished and dehydrated and in need of sleep but there was nothing acute in need of treatment. They spoiled him with all the most luxurious meals their chef could create but he only picked through them. Christine hardly slept, intent on checking on him at all hours and often found him awake. She begged him to sleep but he declined.

She struggled with her anger. She was incredibly happy to have him in their home, safe, but he was pushing them away. She feared he would sneak away in the middle of the night, leave her grieving once again.

They had only returned to that dark lair because Christine was sick with fear, fear that Erik had been harmed by the mob and left for dead. Even if he was dead, she wanted to know and give him a proper burial. Raoul humored her and they snuck across the lake and underground one night, several months after they were last there. He’d been ready to leave immediately, seeing the decay of the already dismal place, but Christine would not leave until she had searched the entire property. It was almost daylight before they found him, hiding away in a carefully hidden room that was hardly big enough to stand inside. He was skeletal, cold, and delirious. 

Christine had expected Raoul to protest or—she dreaded even thinking this of her new husband—to help him back to land only to take him straight to the police, but he was quiet as he shrugged out of his cloak, offering it to Christine. They draped him in that too-small cloak and dragged him back to their carriage.

Nearly two months of his living with them passed before Erik truly began interacting with them, after avoiding Raoul as if he were expecting the man to kill him at any moment.

Things were going well for a while. He ate with them, still hardly eating but joining them at the table, and joined them occasionally in the garden. He grew comfortable with them over time and they needled out of him what he’d prefer to eat so he might enjoy their meals together. He and Christine spoke of music and Raoul told him of the most obnoxious people he was forced to interact with within polite society. He managed to convince Erik to tell him about some of his inventions and privately told Christine he would fund whatever Erik wished to make when he felt up to the task.

Then Erik finally began venturing out of the house into town. He struck an imposing figure and rarely did anyone confront him. He usually left one of his infamous notes around to be found when he left without telling them.

Until one day he didn’t tell them and didn’t leave a note. Christine searched the house for him before going out to look about the garden and the small stable. Raoul returned from an errand to find her hysterical on the front lawn. Erik returned shortly after Raoul had guided

Christine back into the house.

“Where have you been? Christine has been sick with worry,” Raoul snapped.

Erik watched them for a moment. “I’m not your prisoner.”

“No, you’re not,” Christine said, “but how were we supposed to know that you hadn’t left for good.”

“Why would it matter?” He asked.

His face fell when Christine’s eyes filled with tears.

“We didn’t drag you out of that swamp because we wanted you gone from our lives,” Raoul said, anger dripping from his words. “Why would we risk everything to bring you here only to enjoy your departure? Haven’t you figured out that we want you here?”

Erik was silent as he turned and ascended the stairs. Christine sobbed into her handkerchief.

He didn’t leave the room they had given him—complete with a writing desk and even a small organ for him to compose—for three days. Both Christine and Raoul left food outside his room and it disappeared each time but neither saw the door budge.

When he finally emerged, he was clean and sharp in his suit, wig, and mask. He approached them as they were sitting down for dinner but didn’t meet either of their gazes.

“May I join you?” He asked softly.

“Of course,” Christine said.

“Can we get another setting?” Raoul asked their housekeeper.

“At once, Monsieur.”

Erik barely ate but Christine recognized this as anxiety rather than a dislike of the food or an attempt to be contrary.

“I owe you both an apology,” he said after the table was cleared.

Christine didn’t know what to say but Erik didn’t wait for them to speak.

“I’ve treated you both badly. I have no excuse. You’ve given me a place in your home and your lives and showed me the compassion no one else has but I did not properly appreciate it. I ask for your forgiveness but understand if you feel I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

Raoul huffed but it was a soft, fond sound.

“Erik, we don’t want you to leave,” Christine said, reaching her hand out to him. “We want you to stay with us, here, in our home.”

Those dark eyes slid from Christine’s face to Raoul’s.

Raoul met his gaze directly. “Yes, Erik, I want you here as well. You make Christine happy and I find you’re a delightful person to converse with. This house is too big for just two people and I had hoped to consult with you on purchasing a proper organ for your use.”

Erik’s face relaxed into shock and his eyes dropped to the table.

“You have every reason to hate me,” he said. 

“You’re right,” Raoul said, and Christine straightened but kept silent when Raoul touched her hand. “I do have a lot of reasons to hate you, but I’ve decided none of them are worth the time and energy. I do not agree with your killing Bouquet and Piangi but I realize that you have been hurt irreparably in the past and you were not in your right mind. I can’t imagine living in that dungeon by yourself for decades was good for your health and mentality. I hope that we can help you heal and recover from some of your pain.

“All I ask is that you treat both Christine and me with kindness and respect. That doesn’t mean you cannot bring your grievances to us. We will discuss any problems you have as adults. If you wish to leave permanently, simply tell us and we will help you, although we will be devastated to see you go. Your presence here is very much wanted.”

“You’re not our prisoner,” Christine said. “But we would appreciate knowing when you are leaving the house. You don’t have to tell us where you’re going, just let us know not to expect you in the house or on the grounds. We care about you, Erik, and we want to know you’re safe.”

Erik nodded and his small smile felt like a new beginning.

Now, Christine watches, finally drowsy, as Erik turns toward her and lets out a deep sigh. He’s gained muscle from working out on the grounds: taking his anger out on firewood instead of them or his organ, hauling plants and gardening tools for Christine, and carrying tack for their horses when Raoul and Christine ride—he hasn’t quite gathered the courage to join them but has struck up a tentative relationship with one of the mares. 

They still come to disagreements and argue but never again has Erik retreated to his room for days or claimed his presence was a hindrance to Raoul and Christine’s life. Raoul is patient with Erik in a way Christine worried he could not be, but he has surprised her at every turn. When Erik’s new organ was brought to the house and he played it for the first time, he immediately stood from the bench and took Raoul’s hand. There was something searching in his eyes that Raoul answered by pulling him into a hug. Erik held him tight and murmured _thank you_ over and over.

Christine’s favorite pastime of theirs now is when Erik will play for them and Raoul dances with her. Oftentimes they can cajole Erik into giving up the organ and joining them and they dance to whatever they come up with to sing. Raoul has become a lovely singer since Erik came to them and Christine delights in finding them together, Erik teaching Raoul a new vocal technique.

She truly could not dream of a more perfect life.


End file.
